The Real Werewives of Vampire County

Crunch.

Another gag.

I shook my leg. The crunched animal flopped lifeless onto the deck. I stooped down to get a look at it, wondering if I should put it in a box, in case rabies was suspected.

Big ears. A little pointy nose. Long, skinny legs. And a rat tail.

What the hell is that?

Creeped out, my ankle throbbing, I set the bat down and went inside to check my leg and look for a box. After cleaning my wound and a ten-minute search that got me nowhere, I opted to sacrifice one of my designer shoe boxes. I went for my least favorite—apologies to Lauren Jones. Box in hand, I headed back to the family room. Before heading out, I searched the wall for the light switch. Found it. Didn’t find the ratdogwhatever.

Gone?

Something caught my eye. A flash of gold. I squinted into the darkness about thirty feet from the deck. Were those … eyes? Glowing? Big eyes. Was it a big dog? Coyote? Did they have mountain lions in Michigan?

I dove back inside the house and slammed the French doors, throwing the lock. Evidently, the ratdogwhatever had just become something else’s dinner.

I didn’t want to be dessert.

“You’re hurt.”

It was dark. I was in bed. The lights were out. And my bandaged ankle was under a sheet and a blanket. I squinted at the clock. It was three in the morning. I blinked up at Jon, who was standing next to the bed. “How do you know I’m hurt?”

“I saw the bandages and bloody towel in the bathroom.” He sat. The bed sank, and I sort of rolled downhill, closer to him.

“Oh yeah. Of course you did. Sorry. I guess I forgot to clean up.”

“It’s okay. What happened?”

“I was outside in the backyard, enjoying the nice evening, when something jumped out of nowhere and bit me.”

“Hmmm. Let me see.”

“Now? Can’t it wait until morning? I mean, I cleaned it up real good, and it doesn’t look as bad as I thought.”

“I … suppose.” He stood. “How did your meeting with Detective Foster go?”

“He explained everything. And I feel so bad that I doubted you. I mean, we haven’t known each other long, and we dated long distance, so we’re still kind of strangers. But I should have trusted my instincts.”

“And your instincts tell you I’m … ?”

“A good man, though flawed. At least, that’s what you tell me.”

His chuckle reverberated through every cell in my body. It was a very pleasant sensation.

I slid a hand over his thigh, gave it a little squeeze. “You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

“I’ll think about it.” He stripped off his shirt. The dim light leaking through the open drapes skimmed over the swell of his shoulders, highlighting them while keeping his face masked in darkness. “That happens to be one of my faults, you know.”

“What is?”

“I hold grudges. For a long time.”

I figuratively stepped into his shoes. They weren’t very comfortable. “I guess I can’t blame you in this case. I don’t know how I’d react if you thought I’d killed someone.”

The sound of a zipper being opened—ziiiip—cut through the silence. The sloughing of material followed. And after that, a heavy male sigh. “Okay. I forgive you.” He dove onto the bed, landing next to me, the force of his landing sending me bouncing up into the air. A shrill little squeak burst from my mouth just as he caught me midair and wrestled me onto my back.

“That wasn’t such a long time,” I said, running my hands down the sides of his torso. His body was to-die-for beautiful. I couldn’t keep my hands off.

“I guess the definition of ‘long’ is relative. Now, how about we start over? You’ve just moved in and we’re both insanely happy … and horny.”

“Oh yes, we are.” I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and kissed him.

CHAPTER 5

The rolled-up flier, printed on neon green paper, was rubber-banded to our front door the next morning. I found it when I went out to check the mailbox.

Figuring it was an advertisement for lawn cutting, I shoved it in my pocket and continued my trek to the end of the driveway. Lindsay came stomping outside just as I was yanking open the mailbox. She let the huge cardboard box she was carrying fall to the ground. It landed with a dull rattle.

Intrigued, I waved, donned a cheery smile—which wasn’t such a hard thing to do after last night—and said, “Having a yard sale?”

It was Tuesday. The day after a holiday. The first day of school. Seemed like the most unlikely day to have a yard sale, but whatever.

“No. I’m not selling this stuff. I’m giving it away.” She nudged the box with her foot. “I’ve got some good things in here. Come on over and take a look.” She thumbed over her shoulder. “There’s more inside, too.”

In my book, free was another word for junk. But I was curious. “Okay.” I headed across the street and peered into the box while Lindsay headed into the house.

The carton was full of electronics. A Nikon digital camera and an Apple iPad were on top. They couldn’t work. Right? Nobody would give away something that nice. When Lindsay came staggering out with the second box, I held up the two items that had caught my eye. “What’s wrong with these?”

She grunted. “Not a thing.” She dropped the second box next to the first.

“Nothing? They work?”

“They’re practically new. Both have a factory warranty. I think we’ve had the camera for only three months.”

“Really?” My bullshit meter was screaming at full volume, but what did I have to lose by taking them? I tucked my new treasures into the crook of my arm and dug back into the box, in search of more goodies. “If they work, why are you giving them away?”

“Because I just found out the bastard is cheating on me.”

“Ohhhh.” Now, things were starting to make sense. I gently set the items back in the box. I wasn’t about to take something that wasn’t Lindsay’s to give away. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She planted her hands on her hips and glared out at the street. “It’s better I found out now, rather than later. Sure wish I’d had the guts to do this sooner. The bastard’s been cheating on me for over two f**king years. Two years.” She dug the camera out and shoved it into my hands. “Take it. Please. He won’t give a damn. It’ll give him an excuse to go buy the latest and greatest model. After all, that’s what he likes to do best—trade up.” Then, to my surprise she snatched it back, set it in the box, and hauled the whole carton into her arms. Before I realized what she was doing, she shoved it into my arms. “As a matter of fact, take all this stuff. The camera’s cords and lenses and manual are in there. Same with the iPad’s accessories.”